


Hold Me Hard and Mellow

by earthseraph



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Anal Plug, Arranged Marriage, Blink and you'll miss it, Bottom!Bucky, Fluff, M/M, Many Flower Baths, Masturbation, Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes | Shrinkyclinks, Prince Steve!, Prince!Bucky, Rituals, Sex Toys, Weddings, king!steve, slight D/s undertones, top!steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 16:25:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6914587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earthseraph/pseuds/earthseraph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Buchanan Barnes: Youngest sibling in the Barnes family, willing to do whatever he can to help his mother- the queen- out, completely in love with Steve Rogers.</p><p>Steven Grant Rogers: Heir to the throne, completely in love with Bucky Barnes.</p><p>When Bucky is asked for his hand in marriage he's not allowed to know who his betrothed is, but with his friends and family dropping cryptic hints he can only guess it's Steve. Will Bucky be married to his best friend? Will he finally get to act on the love he and Steve have been sharing for each other? He'll just have to wait and see who lifts his veil on his wedding night.</p><p>(Or: The One Where Steve and Bucky Get Their Happy Ending)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold Me Hard and Mellow

**Author's Note:**

> For the amazing [Oldbrooklynsoul!](http://oldbrooklynsoul.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thank you [Gina](http://brickhousebuck.tumblr.com/) for being my cheerleader. 
> 
> Title from [Pillow Talk by Zyan](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C_3d6GntKbk)

Bucky hates these halls, he really does. They’re too long, too wide, and the floor’s fucking marble so he can’t run in them because his loafers don’t have traction and he knows from experience that he’ll slip and fall before he can make it to the end. Speaking of the end of the hallway, at the very end there’s a large staircase with more marble and more risk of falling. He’s told his mother, _the queen_ , to install an elevator like all the other castles have since it’s 2016 but she won’t budge. So he suffers. (He thinks fast walking down these hallways and up three flights of stairs could substitute for leg day at the gym. That’s how bad they are and how much he suffers.)

He throws a sloppy salute to Wanda, his favorite nurse because she treats him like a human and not like he’s porcelain royalty, when he sees her in the hallway and continues speed walking past.

“Is it Steve Day?” She asks as he passes her.

Bucky suppresses an eye roll because everyone in this castle is all up in his business and just nods while walking on, “Yep.”

“Tell him ‘hello’ for me!” Wanda yells after him.

“Will do!” He’s so close to the end of the hallway that he wants to just say ‘fuck it’ and run to the staircase, but his ass remembers from the last time he did that so he refrains and keeps his quick pace.

Finally he’s at the end of the hallway and at the base of the staircase. He grips the railing with one hand and takes the stairs two at a time, hoping he doesn’t slip and fall because that would be an embarrassing way to die and he hasn’t talked to Steve in days. He needs to talk to Steve, his weekly quota of Steve hasn’t been met and he needs to change that right now. 

With a deep breath, ignoring the way his heart’s beating too fast in his chest because not matter how built he is, or how much he works out, he’ll never master the stairs, he climbs up the last few steps until he’s in the hallway leading to his quarters. Thankfully, his room is directly right to the staircase, so he wastes no time throwing himself from the stairs into the door of his quarters. 

Quickly, he grabs his laptop from his desk and runs across the room to his bed, jumping on it with a bounce. He’s still panting from speed walking down the hallway and practicing leg day on the steps when he gets his laptop booted up and Skype open. Bucky taps his fingers against the keyboard, not typing but waiting. 

The last time he spoke with Steve was a little over a week ago, in person, seeing as their kingdoms are divided by a river not too far away. While Bucky was the youngest of his siblings (Becca, five years his senior, in line for the throne after his mother. His adopted sister, one year his senior, Natasha training to be knighted) Steve was an only child with a Queen for a mother that was tiring of the throne. Steve’s more in touch with his diplomatic and political nature of being prince, but Bucky- Bucky only has to sit in on meetings, attend certain events for the Barnes name, and only give input when he feels like it. He’s not a royal snob, not in the least, but since he’s not needed he doesn’t make himself needed unless his mom specifically asks for him. 

Bucky perks up when Steve’s icon blips onto Skype. His finger twitches with want to call him but he keeps his cool and waits for Steve. The last thing he wants to do is pressure Steve into calling him, not like they haven’t been doing this since before laptops with cameras and Skype was a thing (he remembers the horror of AOL messenger in such detail he could have nightmares from it). 

Thankfully, Skype starts calling before Bucky can get too twitchy. Bucky accepts the call, kicking off his loafers and moving so his back is to the headboard and he’s surrounded by his pillows. 

“Hey, Buck.” Steve says, his mouth moving a little slower than the words.

Bucky grins, “Hey, Stevie.”

They both keep grinning into their cameras and Bucky takes the moment to look over Steve in all his slightly pixelated glory. His hair’s in it’s usual side part, his bangs a little on the long side, flopping over the side of his face. There’s dark circles under his eyes from all the work he’s been doing to prepare to take the throne and if Bucky were with him he’d press a thumb to the skin and tell Steve he needs more sleep. Like Bucky, he’s laying on his bed, nestled in pillows, both of them taking the Skype calls like it’s their own little haven to relax in.

“How’s throne training going?” Bucky asks, leaning further back into his pillows, bringing his knees up so his laptop’s at a better angle to see Steve in.

Steve pushes his hair back and audibly sighs, “It’s going.” He looks away before looking back into the camera, “Buck-”

“If you don’t want to talk about it, we don’t have to.” Bucky says softly, cutting Steve off. He knows how stressed Steve gets from even thinking about all the work he has to do before taking the throne, he knows how much it’ll change _everything_.

See, the Rogers family’s kingdom and the Barnes’ kingdom only have the natural border of a river separating them. For centuries the Barnes and Rogers families have coexisted in peace, they share natural resources, diplomatic, and economic ties. The Rogers family are known for their bravery and strategic planning, which they provide to the Barnes family in return for loyalty and medicinal creations. If Steve were to become king their friendship- and the dancing between _relationship_ line- would have to end. Steve would be his family’s royal ally. Their friendship could stay, but the little more that they have, the touches, the not platonic love, would cease to exist. Bucky doesn’t like talking about Steve’s impending coronation as much as Steve doesn’t like thinking about it.

Steve smiles at him gratefully, “Thanks, Buck.”

Bucky shrugs, “No problem.”

“How’s the arm doing?” Steve asks, nodding down on screen, “I know the change in weather makes it ache.”

Bucky looks down at his metal arm and shrugs again, “It’s been giving me shit, as usual, but Wanda’s been trying to massage the knots in the muscle out, putting a whole bunch of oils on it to see if it helps.” Bucky doesn’t remember losing his arm, he was too young at the tender age of five to remember. But the story goes that Bucky was taken hostage by a rogue group of knights for ransom, they fucked something up with knocking him out, gave him a bum arm, and the one to find him was a red headed orphan girl that knew how to wield a blade and disarmed the knights before they could even think she was a threat. “She says ‘hi’, by the way. I think she’ll be forever grateful that you employed her brother as your messenger.”

Steve blushes and shrugs, “He’s the fastest we’ve ever seen, had to snatch him up before you guys did.”

“Sure, Steve, ‘cause you didn’t do it out of the goodness of your heart.” Wanda came to the Barnes castle as a nurse in training, and her skills were well admired by the queen. Her brother, on the other hand, had no skill set necessary to the Barnes’. Thankfully, Steve was at the castle that day and offered him a room and board on the spot. He says it was because Pietro’s skills were something the Rogers family needed, but Bucky knows full and well that Steve didn’t want to split the twins up in social class, nor did he want Pietro to think he was a burden on his sister. 

Steve rolls his eyes, “I didn’t, he skills are something the kingdom needs, you know that.”

“Uh huh, I also know you make sure your guard gets enough sleep, and that you give those pregnant in your service paid maternity leave, and that mop you call a dog you saved from the kennel, and-”

“I get it, Buck!” Steve yells into the mic with a laugh, “I’m a good samaritan, yada yada.”

“You’re purest of all royalty.” Bucky nods, grinning, “There ain’t one person with blue blood as pure as you, except for maybe your mom, ‘cause she’s awesome.”

Steve blushes again, and Bucky loves it, “Thanks, Buck, you’re not too shabby yourself.”

“How nice, way to compliment a man.”

Steve grins, shifting on his bed so his laptop is on the mattress and his legs are curled up to his chest, like Bucky he’s in a button down and slacks, shoes probably kicked off on the floor, “Can’t let your ego get too big, now.”

“My ego’s too big for you to handle.” Bucky jokes, pulling a pillow closer.

“Is it now?” Steve says with a wiggle of his eyebrows that makes Bucky snort.

Bucky opens his mouth to answer when there’s a knock at his door. He frowns, everyone knows not to bother him during his Skype calls with Steve, it’s like his lunch hour if he were to work a regular job, “Come in.” He calls, sitting up a bit straighter.

“What’s going on?” Steve asks, even he knows the rules about Skype time.

“I dunno’.” Bucky mutters, staring at his door, waiting for whoever knocked to come in.

Finally, the head knight on his guard steps into his room, three other knights spilling in behind, “Your Royal Highness, the Her Majesty calls for your audience.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, “Clint, we’re on a first name basis, you know that.”

“Highness.” Clint says, obviously not taking his shit today, “Her Majesty summons you.”

Bucky motions to his laptop, “It can’t wait?”

“No, your Highness.”

Bucky eyes Clint and the knights behind him, they’re acting strange, “Okay.” He looks down at the laptop to Steve, “I gotta’ go, Stevie, but I’ll call you later, okay?”

Even Steve looks concerned, with a little dip between his eyebrows that Bucky wants to smooth out, “Okay, be careful,” he says, “just in case.”

Bucky’s eyes soften, “You, too.”

They stare at each other for a moment before Bucky closes out Skype and shuts down his laptop. He scoots to the edge of his bed, sticking his feet into his loafers and quickly tying them before getting up. He motions to the door, “Lead the way.”

One by one the knights pour out of his room until it’s just him and Clint.

Bucky flicks his eyes to the door before looking at Clint, “What’s going on?”

Clint shifts, he’s in a suit today and not the whole night garb, but he’s still standing like he’s got a chestplate and chainmail on, “I think you should let your mom tell you, buddy.”

“Is someone dead?” Bucky asks, his heart starting to pick up speed. Momentarily, he worries about Steve, but then remembers that he just got off video chat with him not even five minutes ago.

“God, no!” Clint yells before clearing his throat, “No, just go, talk to your mom and try not to freak out, okay? It’s not as bad as you think it is.” Clint’s eyes flick to Bucky’s laptop when he says that last part, and Bucky feels more on edge than before.

With a sigh Bucky walks past Clint and into the hallway where the rest of his suit clad knights are, “If you’re screwing with me I’m going to make sure you have to ride horseback for a week instead of those speedy motorcycles you guys love.”

All of the knights shift and Clint groans from behind him, “I fucking hate horses.”

“I know.” Bucky says, walking past the guards, “But you know not to interrupt me when I’m Skyping with Steve so this better be important as hell.”

“It is.” Clint says with a clap on his shoulder, at his side now, “It really is.”

* * *

* * *

Bucky knocks once on the door of his mother’s office before pushing it open, he ignores the fact that his guard is staying in the hallway, and closes the door behind him. He smiles when his mom stretches both hands out to him, palms up, from where she’s standing behind her desk. He walks over to her, nodding to where his sisters are sitting at the little couch in her office, “Hey, Ma.”

She takes his hands, squeezing them once before letting him go, “James,” she smiles, “please take a seat.”

He nods and sits in one of the uncomfortable chairs in front of her desk, wishing he was sitting at the couch with his sisters instead. 

His mom takes the seat before him, she shuffles the papers on her desk like they weren’t already perfectly together before speaking, “James, you don’t have to agree to his, but..” She trails off, taking in a deep breath, whatever she’s going to tell him is obviously something important, “..but your hand has been asked in marriage.”

Bucky almost chokes on his spit. He laughs nervously, pushing his hair back with his metal hand before spitting out: “What?”

“An arranged marriage has been requested between our kingdom and another.” She says cooly, channeling her queen persona to the max.

“What kingdom?” He asks, hoping that maybe his mother would tell him but...

She gives him a soft smile, “You know I can’t tell you that, James, it’s-”

“Against ritual, I know.” He rolls his eyes and leans back against his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. The ritual of their kingdom involves not knowing who they’re to marry, a few days of ritualistic preparation to the person before the wedding, the actual wedding before a week passes between the proposal and the ritual, and a grace period of sorts that gives the person a week to opt out of the marriage. It’s one of the better systems of arranged marriage, but it’s still arranged marriage and that in itself sucks.

“You don’t have to accept the marriage.” Becca says from behind him, knowing him well enough to see the gears moving in his head.

Bucky nods, because he knows, but he’s got nothing else to offer his family line. He could get married, have a kid and continue the blood, but it’ll leave him as more of a face than anything. Marrying someone, someone he probably doesn’t know, will strengthen the ties between his family’s kingdom and the other. His mother wouldn’t have accepted the proposal or even considered it if she didn’t think the suitor was a match for him. She wouldn’t put him in a situation that could be potentially dangerous or turn out like those horror stories he’s heard before. He trusts her, he does, and this is what he has to offer.

The love he has for Steve, romantic and not, will have to be put on the back burner. It’ll have to get locked down some where deep and dark in his heart. He can’t love another man while marrying someone else, or at least he can’t act like it because he’ll _always_ love Steve. Nothing can change that. Besides, Steve’s coronation was coming sooner than either of them would have liked, this- this marriage- will effectively end the love they have for each other, and this way Steve won’t have to be the one to let him down. He’ll do that, Steve has too much on his plate to think about their almost-forbidden love, he owes this to Steve.

Bucky looks up at his mom, “I’ll do it.”

The room’s silent for a moment. Everyone was obviously ready to try and convince him, seeing as they all know who his betrothed is.

“Okay.” His mother says, raising from her seat, “It’s time to start the ritual, then.”

He nods, rising just like her, “Do you think I can call Steve?” He wants to tell him what’s happening, maybe invite him to his wedding, he wants to tell him he loves him one last time.

The soft, slightly sad smile is back on his mother’s face, “You know you can’t, James.”

Bucky sighs, he does know but he just wished, “Yeah, invite him to it, though, please?”

She nods, “Of course.”

He rounds his seat and looks over to where Natasha and Becca are sitting, “Well, it looks like I’m getting hitched before you two.”

“At least I’ll know who I’m marrying when I do.” Natasha say cooly, no malice in her voice.

“And take all the fun out of it?” Bucky replies sarcastically, because really there’s no fun in going into an arranged marriage, it’s like a legally bound blind date that he only gets a week to decide whether he wants to stay in or not. There’s no frilly courting, there’s no time other than those seven days for him to decide whether he wants it or not. Whether diplomatic ties and allegiance is worth his potential happiness. 

“I’d rather my love life have zero surprises.” Natasha says with a cock of her head, “And boy are you in for one.” With that she gets up from her seat on the couch, effectively excusing herself, and leaves the room.

“What did she mean?” Bucky asks, turning to Becca. He knows Natasha can be cryptic, as been since she saved his life all those years ago. Usually he finds it oddly endearing and amusing, but today, in this situation, it’s freaking him the fuck out.

Becca raises her hands in the air, she might be the next in line for the throne but she never acts that way with him, “Don’t look at me, you know I can’t say anything.”

“Ma?” He turns to look at her, hoping she has something motherly to say that’ll soothe his thoughts and calm the fast beating in his heart.

She rounds the table and stands in front of him, bringing her hands up to cup his face, “You know I wouldn’t put you in a situation that would harm you.”

He nods.

“So then you know that the person that’s been arranged for you is someone this kingdom trusts deeply.”

He nods once more, this time leaning into her hand. He does trust his mom, he always has and he always will. She’s never wronged him, never seen him as anything less because he wasn’t in line for the throne. She let him get his doctorate degree in physical therapy despite the fact that the kingdom’s tabloids thought it was useless. She let him and Steve continue the odd relationship they had, up until this day, despite the fact that it would be a scandal if they were ever caught- not because it was two men, but because Steve was supposed to become king and Bucky was nothing more than a down the line prince. She’s done so much for him when he lost his arm- creating resource based ties with Wakanda so their medical technology would increase, hiring scientists to build him a metal arm- and she continues to do so much for him. So, he trusts her in this.

She pulls back but lays one hand on his chest, above his heart, “I can’t tell you who it is, and I shouldn’t even hint to you who it is, but to ease your mind I will tell you that he is of eggshell eyes and hair as blonde as straw.” She taps his heart once then completely moves away, “Clinton will take you to the temple off to the outskirts of the castle, do listen to what the nurses and maids tell you.”

He’s still mulling over her words, but when he hears the word ’nurse’ he quickly turns before she can open the door and send him off, “Can Wanda be one of them?”

“Of course.” She says before opening the door and waving over a guard, probably to call for Wanda.

“Well,” Becca sighs, pushing herself up from the couch, “I guess I’ll see you on your wedding night.”

“Yeah.” He nods, biting the inside of his cheek for a moment, he looks over to her and asks, “Do you know who it is?”

Becca pauses and runs a hand through her hair, “I do.”

“And do you think I’ll be good with them?” He’s well aware that she knows how he feels for Steve and how Steve feels for him in return, it seems that everyone is, but the only person to bring Steve up was himself. 

“Just think about what mom said.” She replies, obviously trying not to break tradition and tell him who he’s going to see at the altar in a few days time.

He pouts, “But mom’s being cryptic and we all know I’m not good with cryptic.”

Becca sighs again, still by the couch, “I think you’ll be perfect for them, is that better?”

The tightness around his chest loosens a bit because now he has a couple pieces of information to piece together. He’s still going in blind, but his mom gave him a slight description and Becca said he’s “perfect” for his betrothed. It’s better than nothing, and he tells her just that.

“James.” His mother says from the door, “Time to go.”

Like he did earlier with Wanda, he throws a salute to his sister and passes his mom out the door where his guard still stands.

“Told you it was important.” Clint says with a shrug.

Bucky rolls his eyes, “Just take me to the god damn temple.”

Clint grins, “Right this way, Your Highness.”

* * *

* * *

Bucky is left alone in the temple for a couple of hours. The building itself still looks very old-timey with it’s carpeted walls and tile floors, but there are obvious readjustments to fit with the times. Like the central cooling, which Bucky is thankful for, and working outlets. But other than that there’s no sign that this temple is of the 21st century seeing as he has no access to any sort of technology, not even a phone. 

He knows by tomorrow the maids and nurses are going to be fussing with him. Making him do whatever the ritual entails, doing whatever the ritual entails to him. He’s probably going to get stuck with pins when they fit him for his wedding suit, he’s probably going to smell like different fragrances from all the cleansing they do to him, he’s probably going to be so embarrassed and uncomfortable both with the ritual and with marrying a stranger that he’s going to want to pull a fast one and run. So, for now, he relaxes. 

After changing out of the slacks and button down combination he had going on, into sweats and a shirt he found in the dresser, Bucky throws himself on the large bed in the place he assumes are his quarters. He rolls onto his back, looking up at the floral print canopy, arms behind his head, legs crossed.

He’s nervous about the wedding, but also not because of his sister’s words and the trust he has in his family. If his sister thinks his suitor is quote-unquote _perfect_ for him and vise versa, then he should be fine. He only wishes he had more time to be with Steve before all this. He wishes he kissed him on the lips instead of on the cheek that one time, he wishes he told Steve he loved him as more than a friend instead of just assuming Steve knew, but most of all he wishes he had the ability to ask for Steve’s hand. He’s not king, though, nor is he the direct heir, he doesn’t have that sort of power. He could have asked his mom, sure, but Steve’s an only child. Steve’s the only heir to the Rogers family throne, Steve would have had to be the one to ask him to become his Prince Consort, but he didn’t, and now here they are. 

Bucky closes his eyes and rolls over to his side, pulling a pillow under his head as he goes. He lets out a deep sigh and curls a little into himself, too lazy to pull the blankets out from under him and too tired to care that it’s not even seven and he’s already going to sleep. He might as well get all the rest he can before the ritual starts.

* * *

* * *

Bucky wakes up sluggishly when he hears someone knocking on his door. He pushes himself up on one arm and squints at the door, “Come in.”

The door opens slowly, light filling the dark room since Bucky never turned the light on when he got here.

“You have a visitor, Your Highness.” One of the maids tells him, he doesn’t recognize her so he assumes she here purely for the ritual.

“Oh.” Bucky pushes himself so he’s sitting up against the headboard of the bed, “Send them in?”

She nods, “Right away.” And closes the door behind her, leaving Bucky in darkness once more.

He’s not sure who the visitor is since the maid forgot to disclose that information, but whomever they are they came some time late at night according to the darkness from the window, so they can deal with a less than professional Bucky.

The door opens again, this time there wasn’t knock preceding it, “My have you gotten lazy in your old age.”

Bucky grins and pushes himself off the bed, arms open, “T’Challa, my man, what’re you doing here?” Bucky’s known T’Challa for a long time now, not as long as he’s known Steve but very close to all those years. When T’Chaka, the former king of Wakanda, heard the news of Bucky losing his arm he offered his kingdom’s services and resources for creating a prosthetic. Bucky’s kingdom is known for their medical advances, yes, but with Wakanda’s resources they were able to create something better than would have been made on their own. At first, he and T’Challa didn’t get along, two young princes with egos bigger than their heads wouldn’t. But eventually, after Bucky staying in Wakanda for months during the procedures, they became close friends.

T’Challa accepts the hug, “Your mother informed me of your pending marriage, and you cannot get married without a best man.”

Bucky pulls back, a slight frown on his face, “Not that you’re not gonna’ be an amazing best man, but why didn’t she call Steve?”

Something flashed across T’Challa’s face that Bucky can’t read before he replies, “Steven has other matters to attend to, so it is me you will have to endure.”

“Oh.” Bucky says, trying his best not to feel heartbroken. His heart doesn’t belong to Steve, not anymore, not legally at least, and why would Steve want to see him get married off anyways? That’s just another reminder of what Steve can’t have because he’s going to become king soon.

T’Challa hums, patting his back twice, “So, I see that they have yet to start the ritual.”

Bucky clears his throat and takes a step away from T’Challa to his bed where he sits at the edge, “Yeah, I was sleeping so maybe they were waiting until I got up?”

“Perhaps.” T’Challa walks over to the wall by the door and flick a switch, engulfing the room in light, “Maybe they will wait until tomorrow seeing as it’s closer to midnight.”

“Probably, I mean, how long can it take?”

T’Challa chuckles, settling himself at the wingback by the window, “You know so little about the premarital rituals, Bucky.”

Bucky narrows his eyes, “And you do? _King_.”

“I know from what my Sam tells me.” 

He says Sam’s name so softly that it would have made Bucky gag if not for how lovingly it was said, he can’t help being a sap when it comes to his friends and their partners, especially when their partner is Steve’s other best friend, “And what does Sam tell you?”

T’Challa grins, “If they’re the same premarital rituals then you’re in for a ride, Bucky.”

Bucky frowns, “A ride?”

“Yes. There’s many baths and grooming treatments.”

“Oh, yeah, totally a ride.” Bucky says with an eyeroll.

“ _And_ ,” T’Challa says, a grin that makes Bucky slightly concerned, “post-marital sex preparation.”

Bucky almost chokes on his spot, “Post-marital-- what the fuck is that?” Bucky’s voice is pitched higher than usual, he’s not sitting slumped and casual but straight, he feels like if he had hackles they’d be raised. 

T’Challa laughs, full and loud, echoing in the large room, “There is a time prior to getting dressed for the wedding in which you must prepare yourself for your husband.”

“What the fuck.” Bucky whispers looking at the floor. He looks back up to T’Challa, “What if I don’t want to have sex with whomever I’m marrying?” This is both the first time he’s heard of the sex prepping part of the ritual- but he guesses his mother or sisters wouldn’t want to have that conversation with him- and the first time someone’s told him the sex of who he’s to marry.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll want to.”

Bucky narrows his eyes, “But what if I don’t?”

“Then you do not have to, there is such a thing as a grace period for a reason. I can assure you, though, that you will want to consummate the marriage with your husband.” T’Challa says as he pushes himself up from his seat, “Come, Bucky. I’m famished and you probably haven’t eaten in hours.”

“I’ll be there in a sec’, you go.” Bucky says, not looking at T’Challa but waving a hand to the door. He hears T’Challa leave, closing the door behind him, and takes in a shaky breath.

He doesn’t want to get his hopes up, but all the cryptic comments and the fact that it’s not Steve being his best man points to one thing: He’s marrying Steve. It would make sense. Steve has eggshell eyes if someone was being specific, his hair is as blonde as straw. Everyone knows they’re best friends and Becca knows about his feelings for Steve, so calling them _perfect_ would make sense. Now this, T’Challa’s his best friend other than Steve himself. He’s spent countless hours telling T’Challa about his feelings for Steve, telling him how much he wished they were normal so they could just get together, telling him how attractive Steve was with his fine boned features and spitfire anger. 

It all makes sense, but Bucky doesn’t want to hope.

Bucky clears his throat and pushes himself off the edge of his bed. He ignores the giddy and hopeful butterflies in his stomach and heads to the door. He opens the door, taking in a deep breath to calm the butterflies because this might be happening.

He might be marrying Steve.

* * *

* * *

The next morning he’s immediately thrown into a pre-wedding maddness. The nurses and maids look more stressed than he is- for the exception of Wanda who’s staying at his side and asking him why she has to be here every few minutes- and T’Challa who just sits in whatever chair they bring him, silently laughing at the chaos. 

Bucky frowns when he’s poked with a pin for about the hundredth time, not even listening to the seamstress’ apologies because they hardly seem sincere at this point. The suit he’s being fitted into is a three piece made out of a thick white cloth with intricate satin flowers sewn into the fabric. He looks pretty good, if he’s being honest, white suits his skintone and dark hair. 

The seamstress takes a step back, she brings a finger up to her mouth, thinking about something before nodding, “How do you like it, Your Royal Highness?”

He turns slightly in the mirror, looking at himself from all angles. “I think I look good.” He turns to T’Challa, arms spread wide, “What’dya think, Best Man?”

T’Challa lowers the teacup from his lips, setting it on his knee with one hand still on the handle, “Aren’t you missing something?”

Bucky frowns, looking down at himself, “No, I don’t think--”

“Oh!” The seamstress yelps, making Bucky jump, she apologizes and puts a hand over her mouth, “I’ll be back, Highness.” She courtesies, then leaves the room, calling her assistants to follow her.

Bucky watches her leave then turns back to T’Challa, “What am I missing?” T’Challa just chuckles so he turns to Wanda, “Do you know what I’m missing.”

“I’m a nurse.” She drawls, in that gravelly accent of hers it sounds even more annoyed. “I do not do,” she waves at hand around the room, “ _this._ ”

“Well, I’m sure there’ll be something for you to do later.” Bucky tells her, he leans toward T’Challa and lowers his voice, “Will there?”

“I am afraid not.” T’Challa replies, looking all too amused.

Wanda sighs roughly and leans back in her seat, “I am happy for you, that is not the issue.” She runs a hand through her hair, pushing loose strands back, “It is just I would rather be doing something.”

Bucky nods and looks over to where one of the maids he doesn’t know stands, “Would you happen to know what you guys are gonna’ do to me next?”

She nods, “After lunch you will be cleansed in one of the first of three baths.”

Bucky ignores the fact that he’s going to be as shriveled as a prune by the end of this ritual, and asks: “Does it take long to draw the baths?”

“Yes, Your Highness, each bath is filled with a different flower to resemble the stages of marriage. We have to collect and place each flower, along with different essences in the bath for you.”

He looks back to Wanda, “Would you rather be doing that? ‘Cause you’re my favorite nurse and I ain’t giving you up.”

“Anything over this.” She says with a groan.

Bucky rolls his eyes and turns back to the maid, “Will you take her to the bath place?”

The maid curtsies, “Yes, Your Royal Highness.”

He waves Wanda off, “Go. I’ll see you later.”

“Thank you, Bucky.” And with that she’s gone.

Bucky looks back at T’Challa, “I really want to get out of this suit but I’m literally pinned into it.”

“You’re missing the two most important parts.” He says with a sip of his tea.

Bucky rolls his eyes, “Which are?”

“This, Your Royal Highness.” The seamstress says, carrying two boxes. She sets both boxes down but opens one and pulls out his cape.

Bucky groans, “I hate that thing.”

She motions for him to lower himself, “It is an important piece, you must wear it to all official events.”

“I know.” He pouts, standing up at his full height when she finishes fastening the cape.

The cape is long, dragging almost a foot behind him when he walks. The velvet is a deep navy blue with a black fur trim, the lining is a light blue silk, like his wedding suit, it has intricate flowers sewn into it. It fastens over his right shoulder and under his left arm, the leather strap a stark contrast against the delicacy of the suit.

“One more thing, Your Highness, and you will be complete.” She motions for him to lower himself once more, and he does. She pulls a bundle of white attached to what looks like a simple crown out of the box and Bucky holds this groan back, “This belonged to you mother.” She says, setting the veil on his head, pulling the white organza over his face. 

Bucky turns to look at himself in the mirror. He thought he was going to look stupid, seeing as he’s a six foot tall man in a white suit, cape, and veil, but he doesn’t. It all actually looks put together. He looks up at the crown, “Something old.” He looks down at his suit, “Something new.” Back to his crown, since it was his mother's, “Something borrowed.” Then at his cape, “Something blue.”

“Exactly.” The maid says, patting his shoulder, “You look very dashing, Your Highness. Your betrothed will fall in love with you the moment you set foot in the church.”

Bucky smiles softly, looking at himself through the veil, “I know he will.”

* * *

* * *

The first bath is in a tub that can fit four. The surface of the water is covered with little blue flowers, and it smells like lavender. 

“I’m supposed to get in here?” Bucky asks, turning back to look at T’Challa, Wanda, and the other maids.

They all roll their eyes, completely done with his shit, “Yes.” Wanda answers.

He stares at the water, “What if I’m allergic to these little flowers.”

“They’re forget-me-nots,” someone says, “you’re not allergic.”

“And I have to be naked?”

“Yes!” Everyone answers in usion.

Bucky’s the one to roll his eyes this time, then sighs. He takes the clothes he put on after the fitting off, folding them to waste time before he’s as naked as the day he was born to everyone in this room. He hesitates when he’s down to his briefs, blushing deeply before yanking them off and quickly getting into the bath. 

The flowers don't feel too weird against his skin. The petals are soft, whatever oils they have in the warm water soothe his muscles, and he immediately leans back against the tub before he slips under the water and gets the taste of soap in his mouth.

T’Challa chuckles from the chair he made someone bring him, “Does the water feel nice, Bucky?”

“Shut up.” Bucky says, more like mutters because his eyes are closed and he’s so relaxed right now, “You wish you could be in here.”

T’Challa just hums from his seat.

“We must wash your hair, Highness.” One of the maids tells him.

Bucky waves a hand, there’s flower petals stuck to his skin but he can care less right now, “Do whatever you need to do, this feels nice.”

“Have you never had a bath?” Wanda asks, there’s a curious tone to her voice.

Bucky shrugs, “It’s been sometime, the arm wasn’t waterproof for years.”

“We only just developed the technology for his arm to be waterproof about three years ago.” T’Challa says, “See, because the plates are fully functional we could not figure out a way to make it waterproof without damaging the insides.”

“Until ya’ did.” Bucky says, humming when someone starts rubbing shampoo through his long hair. It’s lavender, like the oils in the bath.

“Until we did.” T’Challa chuckles.

“How long have you and Bucky been friends?” Wanda asks.

“Years!” Bucky yells from the bath, eyes still closed, leaning into the rubbing hands.

“Yes, ever since Bucky lost his arm.”

Bucky raises a hand from the bath and shakes a finger in the air, “No, not ever since, we used to hate each other.”

Wanda laughs, “Hate?”

“I wouldn’t call it hate, just a deep dislike for each other.”

Bucky snorts, “Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

* * *

* * *

Bucky gets a couple hours until the next bath. He eats some lunch, ignores the fact that he smells like a flower bed, catches up with both T’Challa and Wanda. It’s nice, he might really hate the rituals- sitting in baths that are supposed to keep his marriage pure and alive, and the fact that he has to prep himself for post-marital sex tomorrow- but he likes the time of peace. T’Challa ignores his phone and diplomatic duties as king to keep Bucky company, Wanda complains but stays at his side until she runs off to draw the next bath for him.

The next, and final bath of the day, is steaming hot with mint leaves floating around the top. He’s slightly concerned about the mint stinging his dick but when he gets in the water all he feels is soothed. Like before, Wanda and T’Challa sit beside the tub, and someone washes his hair.

When he gets out of this bath his skin feels fresh ( _minty_ fresh), his muscles are completely relaxed, and his hair smells and feels amazing. He wants to take more baths after tonight, maybe more baths with Steve- if that’s who he’s marrying.

“I’m so fucking relaxed, right now.” Bucky tells T’Challa, wrapping himself in the silk robe he’s handed, “Like, I think I could sleep for decades with how relaxed I am.”

T’Challa chuckles, rising from his seat, “Tomorrow is your big day. You should get all the beauty sleep you can seeing as you’ll need it.”

Bucky snorts, padding out of the bathroom to his bedroom, “I’m perfect, and you know it.”

“Sure.” T’Challa replies, leaning a shoulder against the door frame, “Are you nervous?”

Bucky settles himself against the headboard, pillows surrounding him, he pulls one of the pillows to his lap and pulls at the fringe lining the plush square, “Honestly, yeah.” He shrugs, still looking at the pillow, “I mean- I think I know who I’m going to be marrying,” he grins slightly, “but there’s still that doubt.” There’s still the doubt that he’s not going to marry Steve and he’s going to spend the rest of his life unhappy because his heart will always belong to Steve but he has obligations as a prince, and this is one he wants to fill for the better of his family. Bucky looks up to T’Challa, “I don’t know how you and Sam did it.”

T’Challa shrugs, looking down at the carpeted floor, “I as a sudden king needed someone to rule with. I didn’t have a princess in mind to marry, nor did I have a prince, for that matter. Marrying Samuel was odd- since I’m king it felt like I had some ownership” he spits out the word, a sneer on his face, “over him. Ownership that I did not want nor intend. Of course, Samuel had the grace period, but like you he was the youngest prince, doing whatever to ensure the wellbeing of his kingdom. He did not want to leave the marriage, even if it meant staying with someone he did not like.” 

“But he did like you,” Bucky says, he knows as much about Sam and T’Challa’s relationship as T’Challa tells him, and they might be best friends but T’Challa is a private man, “eventually.”

“Yes,” T’Challa says it with a small smile on his face, “he did come around to me. Out of stubbornness of wanting the relationship to work or out of genuine care, I am not sure. Samuel loves me, I know that, but I do not know when that love rose. Whether it was weeks or months into our relationship.”

“Did you guys..” Bucky feels a blush rise on his face, “ _consummate_ the marriage before you knew he loved you?”

“I do not know if he loved me when we did, but I know that we both cared deeply for each other. It was two or so months into our marriage, before that all we did was sleep next to each other, and even then we stayed on our sides of the bed.” T’Challa looks up from the carpet to Bucky, “You are lucky, James Buchanan.” T’Challa says, eyes full of sincerity, using his first and middle name to further push his point through, “Not many people of royalty get to marry the one they love.”

“It’s really Steve?” Bucky asks, his voice is quiet, it shakes like the beating of his heart. 

“You know I cannot tell you who it is, exactly.” T’Challa says, pushing himself away from the door, he grips the handle of the door, “But you are going to marry the person you love, and that’s all that matters. Have a good night, Bucky, tomorrow is a very important day.” And with that, he closes the door, leaving Bucky in darkness.

Bucky sighs, moving himself so he’s laying under the covers. He’s still in his robe, slightly damp from the bath, but he doesn’t care. He’s tired, and tomorrow he’s hopefully marrying Steve. There’s butterflies in his stomach, nerves fluttering around because what if it’s not Steve? And Jesus Christ it might be Steve?

He closes his eyes and pulls a pillow to his chest. One more bath tomorrow, one very awkward pre-marital prepping session, and a walk down the aisle that could either change his life for the better or for the worst.

* * *

* * *

If this were any other situation Bucky would nod and give props to the maker of the dildo and plug set. If this were any other situation Bucky would comment on how classy the glass dildo and plug duo look, with thin swirls of gold infused into the glass. But this isn’t _any other time_ , this is right now with T’Challa, Wanda, and maids looking him on as he stares at the toys in their cushioned box.

Bucky looks up from the box, “Do I have to use these?”

“Yes, Your Highness.” One of the maids says, she’s older, probably used to this sort of thing.

Bucky blushes, “I can’t use one of my own?”

Wanda snorts and he throws a glare her way.

“No. I’m sorry, Your Highness, but these need to be used for the ritual.”

Bucky pokes the box, “Has anyone used these before?”

“You’re the family’s first Prince Consort.” Another maid pipes in. 

That relieves Bucky ever so slightly- the fact that no other royal man in his family’s had these up their ass- but he frowns, “But what about the princesses?”

“They self lubricate, Your Highness, males do not.”

T’Challa laughs, filling the whole room with the sound, “Bucky, your kingdom is known for it’s medical advances, you’re a doctor yourself, you should know this.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, “I did know that, doucheface, I just only know the bare minimum about these rituals.” He turns back to the maid, “So, like, I absolutely have to use these?”

“Yes.”

He sighs, pulling the box closer to him on the bed, “Lube?”

The maid nods to the right of him, “In your bedside dresser.”

Bucky nods once more before looking up at the people around him, “Leave, I’d rather not have an audience unless you’re willing to pay.”

Wanda and T’Challa both snort, shaking their heads, before leaving the room. The maids curtsey and file out, one of them closing the doors behind her.

He stares at the box in front of him, the silence and people knowing what he’s about to do making it completely awkward. If he was allowed some sort of technology he’d put some music or porn on, but since he’s not he has to deal with the quiet and use his own imagination. His stomach’s fluttering with butterflies, both from what he’s about to do and the fact that he’s getting married. Him, James Buchanan Barnes of the Barnes family, getting married at twenty six. For the longest time he thought he either wasn’t going to get married or that one of his sister would go before him. But here he his, a few hours away from walking down the aisle. 

Bucky sighs, pulling the robe he slept in off, tossing it to the floor. He grabs the dildo from its slot in the box, weighing it in his hand. It’s not too heavy, a little thick around the bottom, and not as long as other toys he’s used. He assumes that it’s supposed to resemble the “average” dick, probably for virgins or people who haven’t masturbated before, but he’s pretty experienced in that department so this will be fine for him. He sets the dildo beside him on the bed, far enough that it won’t roll off and break, but close enough that he can reach it, and puts the box with the plug on his bedside table. Thankfully, the lube isn’t too hard to find, and now all he has to do it stick some glass up his ass and get on with his day.

Bucky leans back against the bed, completely naked. The silk sheets and plush mattress feel good against him, the two baths from before adding to the smoothness of his skin. He pulls a few pillows closer to his back, propping himself up at an angle, and plants his feet on the mattress. 

His own dick is already hard, leaking precome with anticipation - no matter how embarrassing this might be the idea of sticking something that’s going to feel good up his ass always turns him on. Usually, he has something to watch or listen to as foreplay, but with the lack of actual porn and music he only has himself. 

He leaves the dildo and lube beside him on the bed, instead running his fingers lightly down his chest. He can feel goosebumps rise on his skin as the brush of his fingers, and when he scratches a nail against his stomach his muscles contract and quiver. 

With a soft sigh he lowers his metal hand to his dick. Bucky rubs the pads of his fingers against the tip, moaning at the cold contrast of his hand to warm skin. He grabs the lube with his flesh hand and slicks his metal hand up before going back to his cock. 

While he always tried not to think of Steve in bed, with all the hints and hope that Steve’s going to be the one he marries and has sex with tonight he can’t help but think of him. Bucky closes his eyes, imagining Steve being the one stroking him. His thin hands wrapped around Bucky’s cock, stroking him hard and fast, both of them panting- Bucky out of pleasure and Steve out of exertion. He imagines the feeling of Steve’s skin against his, how it would feel, rough or soft, warm or cold. He thinks about Steve pull his hand off, a grin on his lips as he takes the head of Bucky’s cock into his mouth, suckling on the tip like he’s hungry for it. He imagines Steve’s blonde hair between his legs, trying to take as much as he can into his mouth before gagging on it.

Bucky almost comes at the thought- Steve sucking him off, gagging on him, his mouth messy with come and spit- and squeezes the base of his cock. He doesn’t want to come right now, not when he still needs to stick a dildo and plug up his ass, the overstimulation would suck. 

He pants up to the canopy, taking in deep breaths before removing his hand and slicking it up with more lube. With a gentle touch, he traces the way from his cock to his hole, lube cooling in the air, making him hum at the feeling. He presses the pad of his index finger to his hole, his hips jerking in the air on their own accord at the feeling of cold lube and smooth metal against his hole. Slowly, he pushes his first finger against it, moaning when it slides in. He pushes his finger in as deep as it can go, thrusting in firmly before slipping his finger out.

Bucky whimpers at the loss of his finger, but quickly pushes two back in, the whimper turning into a moan. He scissors his fingers, stretching himself for the dildo. With his middle finger he looks for his prostate, slick metal moving around inside him making him roll his body down into the feeling. He feels along his walls until he find it, a deep moan rising from his chest when he rubs his finger back and forth over the spot. His cock leaks against his stomach as he continues, precome making a sticky pool that his cock slides into when he moves. 

His eyes flutter open then closed with each press against his prostate, stars lighting up behind his eyelids at each push. He slips a third finger in, ignoring his prostate for pushing the fingers in and out. He lets out a pant at the thickness of his fingers, the sounds of his harsh breathing and his slick fingers filling the room.

With one last thrust of his fingers, he pulls them out, not wanting to go too far and literally screw himself over. He gently holds the glass dildo in his metal hand and slicks it up with his flesh one before lowering it to his hole. He presses the tip in slowly, moaning loudly at the cold feeling of glass to his hot skin. With a quick thrust he pushes the dildo in halfway, before jerking it out. The glass is smooth and cold, nothing like his metal fingers with their almost dangerous edge, instead the glass feels more intimate and sensual as it starts warming up with the temperature of his body.

He pushes the rest of the dildo in completely, stretching himself on the widest end, only holding onto it by the tips of his fingers. He thinks about Steve and his small cock- they’ve been friends forever, of course he’s seen it- how good it would feel to clench around it. He thinks about it’s warmth, the slimness of it. Most people would want to be fucked by a thick cock, and yeah Bucky has his thicker toys, but the idea of Steve over him, thrusting into him, his hair flopping at each thrust. The idea of Steve possibly holding his wrists against the mattress, making Bucky come undone with his mouth and fingers and cock, turns Bucky on like nothing else.

Bucky pulls the dildo out with a low moan, giving himself a moment to pant up to the canopy, before slicking the plug up. He doesn’t take his time with this one, just slips it into his stretched hole and moves his hand to his cock. He jerks himself off quickly, toes curling into the sheets, his head thrown back against his pillows, stomach quivering with the exertion, until he comes with a loud moan.

He lays boneless on the mattress. Come streaking his stomach, the plug feeling odd and warm inside him, his lungs burning and sweat coating his skin with how hard he went. Bucky breathes in slowly and exhales through pursed lips. He ignores the come- he’s got one more bath, it can get washed off then- and rolls over on his bed, tired from his _activities_. He pulls a pillow under his head and lets out a deep sigh, settling in for a nap until they wake him up to get him ready for the wedding.

* * *

* * *

The last bath goes much quicker than the first two, and he’s glad seeing as he has a glass plug in his ass. He sits in the warm water (this time with tea roses) for less than twenty minutes before they’re pulling him out and drying him off. He accepts the assault, letting the maids use rough towels, blow dryers, _whatever_ they need to get him dry. Instead of getting the silk robe he’s been favoring the last two days he’s given some of his own briefs and a white undershirt. He pulls both items on, watching the maids run in and out of the bathroom until one pushes him out with her. 

Bucky lets the maid steer him until he’s back in the room he was fitted for his suit in. He nods to T’Challa, who like before is sitting in an armchair but this time has on his own suit. The jacket and pants are a deep blue like Bucky’s robe, his shirt is an off white, and in his suit pocket there’s a white rose. 

Bucky nods to T’Challa’s suit, “Nice threads, man.”

“I see you’re ready to get yours on, too.” T’Challa says with his own nod behind Bucky.

Bucky follows T’Challa’s eyeline and sees the mannequin with his suit and cape on, he frowns, “It’s barely going to be noon, why are we starting so early?”

“You must fly to the kingdom of your betrothed, of course.” T’Challa says, leaning back in his chair, “Samuel has provided us with a very nice jet, your family has already made the trip there.”

“Oh.” Bucky says with a blink, because of course he’s going to be living with who he’s marrying. He just forgot, for some reason he thought he’d be getting married here.

T’Challa just hums in reply.

“We must dress you now, Your Highness.” The maid who was steering him around tells him.

Bucky nods, not saying anything. He’s quiet for the rest of the time the maids dress him, moving a body part when needed, but other than that silent. He thinks about walking down the aisle, about living somewhere _not_ home, about spending the rest of his life- hopefully- with Steve. It’s all good thoughts, thankfully, but he’s still slightly nervous because it’s all very new.

“Bucky.” Wanda says, snapping her fingers in front of his face.

Bucky jumps, not expecting someone to break him out of his thoughts, and looks up at Wanda, “Yeah?”

“Sit in front of the mirror, I am to braid your hair.”

Bucky sits down in the chair she points to. He’s in everything but the veil and cape, and the suit is pretty comfortable, all things considered. He watches as she gathers his slightly damp hair, separating it into sections, some getting pushed over his shoulder, others already in her hands for the braiding. His hair’s an inch or so past his shoulders, it waves ever so slightly like his mother’s hair, and is now shiny from all the care that’s been going into it. 

He doesn’t really mind that it’s being picked up and braided by Wanda, seeing as she’s done it before, so he sits still and watches her braid through the mirror.

* * *

* * *

“I’m so fucking nervous.” Bucky whispers to Wanda. They’re in the castle of his future husband- steve steve steve- that he can’t see because more organza was added to the veil, he can only see his feet and a couple tiles. Wanda’s in front of him, acting both as his guide and the flower girl because his baby cousin decided to have a tantrum and not want to do it.

Wanda shifts, he can see her long red hair move against the blue of her dress, “You should not be cursing before the doors of a church.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, the butterflies in his stomach fluttering all too hard, “I’m fucking nervous so I can curse all I want. God gets it.”

“When you go to hell we’ll see if he gets it.” She mutters, they’re both waiting for the organ to start up and the doors to open.

“I’ll save you a seat when I get there, then.” He grins under the veil, his hands are starting to sweat from where they’re holding his own bouquet of cliche as hell white roses.

“Oh no.” Wanda says, almost purring, “I’ll be going to heaven.”

Bucky snorts, “Sure ya’ will.”

“I don’t doubt it seeing as I--”

The organ starts, loud and rumbling, with the wedding march, making both him and Wanda jump. Almost immediately after the first key is hit the doors to the church open and Wands starts walking. 

Bucky keeps his eyes on the floor, unable to do anything else, and walks. He was told to walk to the tempo of the music, foot to ankle, step, foot to ankle, step, so he does it. He can feel the weight of his cape dragging behind him, the weight of people watching him. Most weddings call for a father guiding their child to the end of the aisle, but since his passed away years ago a delicate hand takes his elbow.

He looks down at the hand wrapped around his elbow and smiles, “Hey, Ma’.”

“James.” She says, sounding choked up.

“I look good in white?” _foot to ankle, step, foot to ankle, step._

She squeezes his arm gently, “You look very handsome, white has always been your color.”

_foot to ankle, step, foot to ankle, step._ “Is it Steve down at the alter?”

She’s quiet, _foot to ankle, step, foot to ankle, step_ , they’re almost to the end of the carpet when she answers, quietly, “Yes.”

Bucky grins, wide and hurting, _foot to ankle, step, foot to ankle, step_ , “Thank you, Ma.”

“Anything for you, James.” She leads him up three short steps, turning him to face his betrothed and taking the bouquet of flowers from him.

The organ stops.

“Today,” a loud voice booms, the priest, “we gather here to take part in the joining of two kingdoms. It is on this day the Kingdom of Rogers-”

Bucky starts grinning again. He tries to suppress it before the veil is lifted so he doesn’t look completely crazy.

“-and the Kingdom of Barnes unite as one through holy matrimony.”

Bucky almost snorts at the use of _holy matrimony_ , it’s 2016, nobody says that anymore.

“King Rogers-”

Bucky’s heart almost jumps from his chest. During the time he was getting bathed and sticking something glass up his ass Steve was crowned king. Steve’s his king now, and soon to be his husband.

“-you make lift the veil off your betrothed and coronate him.”

Bucky sees Steve’s delicate hands before he sees the man himself. They gather the organza gently, having respect for the material, for a moment he just holds the fabric and Bucky recognizes Steve’s problem. He bends his knees slightly so that he’s shorter and that does the trick because Steve’s able to lift the fabric over his head. They catch eyes for a moment before Steve slowly takes the veil off his head, careful not to mess up his hair.

“Prince Barnes, please kneel on one knee.” Bucky lowers himself as the priest directs, finally getting a chance to look at Steve.

Like Bucky, Steve’s in all an all white suit, but it’s only two piece. He has his own cape on, but instead of it going across like Bucky’s it rests on his shoulders, long and red, lacking a fur trim. Atop his head is a large gold crown with alternating ruby and opal gems placed in the gold. He looks all like the king he was always meant to be and all like the man Bucky’s so deeply in love with.

“With this sword,” the priest says, raising a slim sword, it’s edge dull, “both kingdoms will be officially united. With this sword Prince Barnes will be the heir to the Rogers throne if anything were to happen to King Rogers. With this sword Prince Barnes will become Prince Consort Rogers.” He hands the sword to Steve, one hand on the handle the other lightly holding the blade.

Steve takes the sword, bowing, before turning back to Bucky. He gives Bucky a small smile and Bucky swears that his heart skipped a beat.

“With a touch of the sword to his left shoulder, he is your dearly beloved. His heart is yours, and yours is his. You are united as one.”

Steve gently touches the dull blade to Bucky’s shoulder. There’s a small smile on his face, too.

“With a touch of the sword to his right shoulder, he is the person who holds your trust and you are the one who hold his.”

Steve raises the sword, lifting it over his head to touch his right shoulder with the blade before pulling it back. The sword is given to a young knight.

“Here,” the priest raises a small crown, gold and thin with alternating red and opal gems, above him, “is the crown that completes the transition from Prince Barnes to Prince Consort Rogers. This crown is the highest sign of love and affection. This crown is both a symbol of leadership and a symbol of the ability to be led. This crown belongs to James Buchanan Rogers.” He lowers the crown to Steve, letting him take the crown, “You may now place the crown on his head.”

Bucky bows his head and Steve gently lowers the crown to fit atop his hair.

“Prince Consort James Buchanan Rogers, you may stand.”

Bucky stands with as much control as he can, not wanting the crown to fall off his head, and grins down at Steve.

“King Rogers, you may now kiss your husband.”

Steve blushes, red like the color of his cape, and looks up at at Bucky, his blue eyes shining, “I kinda need your help here, jerk.”

Bucky grins wider, “I gotcha’, punk.” He leans down, pressing his lips to Steve’s, laughing into his mouth when people begin to clap and wolf whistle. Bucky decides to fuck it all and grabs Steve by the lapels of his suit, pulling him in to deepen the kiss, slips his tongue between Steve’s lips and hold him close. When they pull apart they’re both flushed red and grinning, foreheads touching.

“I’m so glad it was you.” Steve whispers, his hands are resting on Bucky’s shoulders, “I didn’t know what I’d do if it wasn’t.”

“Me too, Stevie.” Bucky replies, closing his eyes for a moment to take everything in, “Me too.”

* * *

* * *

“Oh, Bucky.” Sarah Rogers says, coming up to him after the wedding, pulling him into a hug.

He, sadly, detaches himself from Steve and hugs Sarah close, “Thank you for requesting my hand.” He says into her shoulder as he hugs her because she is the one that did this all. Kings or their mothers are the ones to request hands, Steve couldn’t have done this himself.

“I’ve known your love for him since before you knew, Bucky.” She tells him softly, pulling away from the hug to cup his face, “I knew, when I decided to step down from the throne, that it was your hand for my Steven. Nobody else would love him like you, and he wouldn’t have loved anyone either.”

Bucky gives her a watery smile, “I promise to do good by your son.”

She rolls her eyes with a laugh and slightly pushes his face away, “Go back to my son, I can see him mooning over you from here.”

Bucky throws her a mock salute and turns back around to where Steve’s sitting at one of the tables, he sits down next to him, pulling his cape in his lap, “Why aren’t you living up your own party, Stevie?”

“ _Our_ party, Buck.” He says, taking Bucky’s hand in his own because they can do it now, “And I’m not feeling it. I’ve been stressed about this wedding for days now, worrying who I was going to marry until I saw your family in the pews.”

Bucky frowns, “Nobody dropped you a hint?”

Steve shakes his head, “Nope.”

“Not even Sam? Because T’Challa was all about dropping hints.” He looks around the large hall, trying to spot T’Challa but not finding him.

“Sam was all about secrecy. He just smirked at me all week and told me to be patient.” Steve rolls his eyes with a huff, “Like being patient about seeing who’s going to walk down the aisle is easy.”

“Well, look, it’s over now.” Bucky says, a grin spreading on his face, “And you’re married to me, what more could you want?”

Steve looks at him, his eyes almost puppy sad, “A nap. I could go for a nap.”

Bucky looks around the hall once more, making sure nobody’s listening to their conversation, “I know we’ve only schmoozed with people for an hour, and this is our wedding night but..” He leans in, almost kneeling off the chair to get his lips close to Steve’s ear, “But as a part of the ritual I had to prep myself for my husband to ravish me on my wedding night. There’s a glass plug in my ass for you, Steve, and I don’t think anyone will care if we leave the wedding early.”

“You make a valid point.” Steve says, clearing his throat before rising from his seat, “Lets get to my room before anyone sees us.”

Bucky grins, getting up from his half kneel, and takes Steve’s hand, “Lead the way, _King_.”

* * *

* * *

They’re laughing when they get to Steve’s room, hand in hand, and panting from the run up stairs and down hallways (the hallways in Steve’s castle have carpet so they can actually run without slipping). 

Steve quickly opens the door, yanking Bucky in before closing it behind them, still laughing. His eyes are a bright blue even in the darkness of Steve’s room, the moon filtering in through cracked curtains being the only source of light.

Bucky pulls Steve by the hand to his bed, letting the back of his knees hit the mattress so he falls back, pulling Steve down with him.

Steve chuckles, shifting so his knees are bracketing Bucky’s hips and his hands are beside Bucky’s head, “You’re a menace.” He says, but leans down to kiss Bucky.

“But you love me anyways.” Bucky replies into the kiss, moving his head to the side when Steve starts peppering kisses along the side of his face and down his neck.

“Yeah,” Steve says, licking at Bucky’s neck while unbuttoning his clothes, “but I love you anyways.”

Bucky’s smile is wide, he knows Steve loves him but it’s nice to hear it, “You know,” Bucky brings his hands up to rub at Steve’s sides, “I’m pretty sure I’m slick enough for you to just slip right in me. Don’t gotta’ prep me or anything, just take the plug out and use me as a wedding gift.”

Steve moans, his breath hot against Bucky’s chest where he got the shirt open, cape strap still oddly digging into his skin, “Fuck, Bucky.” He presses his forehead against Bucky’s sternum, licking the skin there once before pulling back, “You being serious?”

“Why don’t you find out for yourself?” Bucky cocks an eyebrow, leaning up slightly to pull all five layers of clothing off (he has to fiddle with the cape’s strap but when he gets it off he just leaves the cape under him), only leaning back to fold his arms underneath his head with a smirk.

“Menace.” Steve says, but he strips his own clothing, throwing them behind him before getting off the bed to get both their shoes and pants off. Once they’re both naked Steve crawls back up the bed, this time sitting on his chest. 

Bucky’s eyes flick down to Steve’s cock. It’s hard, curving up towards his stomach, the tip a dusty rose and Bucky licks his lips. He wants nothing more than to slip it into his mouth, to taste Steve for the first time and swallow him down. He wants to make Steve come undone with his mouth alone, he knows he can, but there’s a serious look on Steve’s face that he can’t ignore, so he drags his eyes away from it and looks up at Steve.

Steve places his hands over Bucky’s heart, “You sure about this, Buck? We don’t gotta’ do it because some ritual says so.”

Bucky pulls his arms out from under his head, ignoring his wants, and places his hands over Steve’s own chest, the metal against Steve’s milky skin a stark contrast, “Stevie, I’ve been dreaming about this day since I knew what sex was, okay? This isn’t because of some stupid ritual. You wanted to take a nap, remember? _I_ was the one to proposition you.”

Steve nods, the look erasing from his face, he pulls Bucky’s metal hand up to his lips to kiss it, “Just makin’ sure, didn’t want you to regret this.”

“Never.” Bucky says, voice barely a whisper. He’s watching Steve kiss his hand, his lips pressing to the tip of each finger, and he can’t feel it. There’s not a pressure sensor in his arm so he can only just imagine the feeling, imagine how Steve’s lips feel against cool metal, imagine how soft they are, imagine the warmth of them. 

Eventually, Steve stops kissing his hand, gently placing it back on the bed before patting Bucky’s hip, “Move up the bed will ya?”

Bucky nods, his thoughts still on Steve’s lips against his hand and the craving for Steve’s cock in his mouth. He crawls backwards, kicking his cape onto the floor, not even moving to the pillows, just higher up the mattress until Steve can comfortably sit between his bent knees.

Steve looks down at Bucky’s cock and licks his lips, he brings a hand up to experimentally squeeze it and Bucky moans, “I’ve thought about this for as long as I can remember, too, ya’ know?”

“I always hoped.” Bucky pants, the friction of Steve’s dry hand against his cock is maddening in more ways than one. He want to both thrust his hips up into the feeling and pull away.

Steve keeps a steady pace, watching his hand until he pulls away.

Bucky whimpers at the loss, opening his mouth to tell Steve something snarky when Steve leans down and licks the head. Bucky’s words turn into moans as Steve kitten licks his cock, never pulling more than an inch in his mouth, but licking around the length like it’s a damn lollypop. Bucky can feel the warmth in his stomach pooling and he gently pushes Steve’s head away with his metal hand, “Gotta’ stop or I’m gonna come, Stevie, and we don’t want that prepping going down the drain now do we?”

“Guess we don’t.” Steve says with a grin. He nudges Bucky’s knee with a hand, “Lemme’ see you, Buck.”

Bucky blushes slightly, but widens his legs. He moans deep in his chest when Steve gently parts the cheeks of his ass with a hand and pushes at the plug with another.

“Oh, Buck.” Steve moans, pulling at the plug, “You really got yourself ready for me, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” Bucky moans, hands clutching at the bed sheets when Steve completely pulls the glass toy out, “Wanted our first time to be the best.” His hips jerk when Steve sticks two skinny fingers in his hole, scissoring them, moving them around almost curiously. 

“You’re so wet, Buck.” Steve says, his voice sounds far off, and all Bucky can focus on is the feeling of his fingers, “I really could just slip in. Use you for the night and plug you back up with my come for the morning.”

Bucky nods at the idea, wanting it more than ever, “Please, Steve, do it. Fill me up, make me yours.”

“Okay.” Steve nods, “But I’m not strong enough to fuck you on your back.”

“That’s fine.” He scoots a bit further up the bed, trying not to fall off, until he can roll himself up to hand and knees, “This better for you?” He hears Steve move up the bed, and feels his hands settle on his ass, rubbing at the skin.

“Much.” Steve says, parting his cheeks again, “Ready, Buck?”

“Been ready since this morning.” Bucky replies, looking over his shoulder at Steve with a grin.

Steve rolls his eyes and lines up his cock, pushing himself completely in with one thrust.

Bucky moans, turning away from Steve when he does it again. Steve’s length is thin, but not too small, he fills Bucky up just right and Bucky pushes his hips back, asking for more with body language instead of words.

“I got you, Buck.” Steve says, shifting his hands to hold Bucky’s hips before thrusting in again, “You know,” Steve pants, slowing his thrusts, “you’re the first one to get this.”

“I am?” Bucky feels his toes clench at the idea that he’s going to be Steve’s first. That Steve’s cock’s never been in someone else’s body. That his come and cock is all Bucky’s, and will always be Bucky’s.

“Yeah, so if I don’t last long..” Steve says, trailing off.

Bucky feels Steve lean over his back, arms wrapping around his chest, their bodies closer than ever. Steve’s thrusts are deep and slow now with the closeness. They fill Bucky more than anything ever has, and at every backstroke Steve’s cock brushes against his prostate. It’s the best sex he’s ever had, and it’s probably because it’s with Steve. Bucky clutches the sheets with his hands, sweat dripping off his body when Steve keeps rubbing against his prostate, “There,” Bucky pants, moaning when Steve starts sucking kisses into his back, “keep it there.”

He can feel instead of see Steve nod his head, but Steve listens, not pushing in any further just hitting that spot over and over again until Bucky feels like his skin’s on fire and like the white spots behind his eyelids are never going away, “I’m gonna’ come, Stevie.” He feels like he’s clenching all the muscles in his body to stop himself from coming, to hold it off until Steve lets him.

“Do it.” Steve moans, thrusting in harder, the slap of their skin filling the spaces between his speaking, “Come for me Bucky.”

Bucky unclenches his body, coming with a silent moan as Steve continues thrusting inside him. He keeps himself up on hands and knees for Steve’s sake, letting his husband fuck him until he thrusts one last time and spills warmth inside him. Bucky moans weakly when Steve pulls out, feeling his come both inside him and leaking out of him making his body want to get hard again but can’t.

Steve rubs a hand against his lower back, “Did you really want me to put the plug back in you?”

“Yeah.” Bucky nods, his face still planted in the mattress, he thinks about Steve waking up hard tomorrow and just unplugging him to slip back in and fill him up with come, he thinks about it and almost comes again, “Please.”

The glass is cold when Steve pushes it back in, but still slick with whatever lube was left on it. Bucky rolls over, out of the wet spot, ignoring the feeling of being full once more to smile up at Steve, “Always knew you were a toppy little fucker.”

Steve roll his eyes but lays down when Bucky opens his arms to pull him in, “Well I’m glad you enjoyed it, because I sure did.”

Bucky grins, taking Steve’s left hand in his, “We gotta get ourselves some rings, make it super _super_ official.”

“Cause the crown and last name doesn’t do that already, _Bucky Rogers_?”

“No it does not, need everyone knowing your mine with a little gold band on your finger.” Bucky says, kissing Steve’s hand before pulling him closer to his chest, “I’m so fucking glad I’m married to you, Stevie. Loved you for so long.”

“I’m glad too, Buck, gonna spend the rest of my years making you happy.” He places a kiss to Bucky’s chest and snuggles in, “Starting with letting you be the big spoon.”

“You wanna’ be the big spoon?” Bucky asks with a yawn, wrapping his arm around Steve.

“Some nights, yes.” Steve replies, obviously drifting off.

“M’kay.” Bucky kisses the crown of Steve’s head, “Love you, Steve.”

Steve presses a sleepy kiss to Bucky’s chest, “Love you, too, Buck.”

They fall into silence, both of them drifting off to sleep. Floors below them, the wedding reception is still going on in full swing, nobody caring to bother the newly weds. In Steve’s bed Bucky holds him close, glad that it’s him, glad they got their happily ever after even though their lives have yet to end, glad he’s now able to love Steve openly and unabashed.

For the first time, Bucky thanks the God that took his arm away, and almost took his heart because here he is, holding Steven Grant Rogers in his arms, with Steve holding him back, and nothing can possibly get better than this.

- _fin_

**Author's Note:**

> Flower meanings:
> 
> Forget-me-nots: True and undying love.  
> Mint: Virtue  
> Tea rose: I will remember always
> 
> [Reblogable Post](http://pesmenos.tumblr.com/post/144668426775/hole-me-hard-and-mellow-by-earthseraph-pesmenos). [My Tumblr](http://pesmenos.tumblr.com/).


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